Page 177 of Charming Deception

“That the woman Jamie was seeing was cheating on him.”

I didn’t know that.

But it explained a lot. Like the deep loyalty Jameson felt for my brother.

Which just makes me wonder about the loyalty of the man in front of me…

“You knew, but you didn’t tell him?”

“I didn’t know. But apparently, others did know. Others who didn’t tell. Friends of Jameson’s, who are no longer friends of Jameson’s.” His expression is merciless, as if I’m the woman who cheated on his brother. “She slept with one of his friends, you see. That’s who the affair was with.”

Oh. Shit.

I’m not sure if I should be bothered that Jameson never told me about this, when I told him Troy cheated on me. But obviously, it affected him. Maybe he didn’t like to talk about it?

“Jamie values honesty and trust, maybe more than anything,” his brother concludes.

I believe that. But I wonder if the same goes for the man in front of me.

“Would you have told him if you knew?” I ask him.

Damian chuckles humorlessly under his breath. “Yes. I’d tell him. And then I’d go have a nice chat with his ‘friend.’”

Wow.

I take a long swig, finishing my wine. Then I watch as Jameson’s older brother reaches for the bottle of Syrah and refills my glass for me. He wears a pinky ring with a black stone, etched with some kind of insignia.

This guy gives off Mafia kingpin vibes or something. I get the distinct impression that by “have a nice chat with” he actually meant “do physical damage to.”

“You’re interesting, Damian,” I tell him.

“And by ‘interesting,’ you mean…?”

“Not much like Jameson.”

“We may seem different, but my little brother is more like me than you might care to know. Men like us…” He peruses me slowly. “We don’t settle.”

“Meaning?”

“You’ll need to be interesting yourself if you expect him to keep you.”

Keep me.

Like I’m an object.

Is that how he sees women?

I know he’s looking out for his younger brother, his family, their fortune. And I can’t even refute what he’s said. From his point of view, I am using his brother for money. I said yes to his proposal for the security he’d promised me in return.

At least, that was how it started out.

“Tell me again.” He leans in, like we’re sharing a secret. “What is it you love about my brother?”

That’s so easy for me to answer at this point, my throat squeezes as I speak. Maybe I wish it weren’t so easy. “His heart. His generosity. He’s always been good to me. Respected me.”

“In what way?”

“You doubt that? Maybe you don’t know him very well.”

---